The Anguish Love Cured
by mind.les
Summary: Harry has nothing to hold on to anymore. Lost and confused he runs into Draco Malfoy. Draco was not healing very well. He is hurt, in pain, and full of anguish. With everything he knew and loved ripped from him, how is he still alive? But then comes that insufferable Potter. Why is he so nervous? And why in the name of Merlin did he keep running into the man? Why did he like it?
1. You Can't Hide in Dreams Forever

**AN:** **** _Feel free to comment and review. This is my first fanfic on this site and would love to hear from anybody who reads my work! Beware that updates would be long in coming. But i hope you enjoy! I'm serious though. Any plot ideas you wish to give? I'm happy to read and reply. Note enough with this! Go and read my ridiculously short chapter! :)_

 _There_ was a day I would have cared about the looks I was receiving. The quiet and studious glances of those that thought they knew me, but in reality, they had no clue. I was nothing more than a political figurehead in the game that was invented long before I was born. I am the Boy Who Lived. The public thought that because they have heard of me, knowing me was only logical. Yet, that isn't how it works. But I cannot say anything to the contrary. Politics is a very delicate game. One that I have already begun to test.

From the moment I walked into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the game I didn't know existed had been put into jeopardy. The Minister was worried. The World was worried. I was the only one that wasn't. I didn't know what was at stake. I didn't know the price that came with unwarranted fame. Every look, every action, every word I said was analyzed and scrutinized. I was a specimen to be examined. An anomoly to be sorted out. I was different. Once again, I was a Freak. I was tired of being labled. I wanted to rise above it all. No matter the cost. No politics. No expectations.

It was no wonder I was sorted into Slytherin. To be sorted as anything else now just seems preposterous.

My life in the first few days of my First Year of school was of a different nature. Alliances were made. Friendships formed. And the tenuous one I had made with the red head named Ron, dissolved. It was one of the stipulations Draco Malfoy had if he were to befriend me. I could deny the blonde nothing. He was my ticket to salvation. The one way I was going to be able to survive in a House of cutthroat competition and a people with the will to rise above all others. A will that almost rivaled mine. Looking back on it, Draco probably recognized my ambition from the beginning. That's probably why our friendship even existed.

I am not crying. As I write this, my eyes are dry. I am an Eighth Year now. Come to finish the year we all missed. It was an unexpected thing, Voldemort's return. I was expected to fight him. So I did. And it nearly cost me everything. Fine. So I am crying. But only because it DID cost me everything. Or MY everything. But let me start from the beginning.

I first noticed Draco Malfoy before school even began. Before I realized I was caught in a game of cat in mouse. Before I was a political pawn used to advance the needs of Ministry officials everywhere. I used to be innocent if you could believe it. I used to enjoy the little things. Like walking into a Robe Store and noticing a beautiful haughty blonde.

I used to be so innocent as to believe liking this boy from the first glance was something normal. If only.

"Are you going to Hogwarts too?" The angel before me had asked. And like an idiot, I could only nod.

"What House do you think you'll be sorted into? Personally I know that I'll be put into Slytherin. It's the best of the Houses, you see." The boy continued onwards, oblivious to Harry's confusion. "Every one if my family members where Slytherin, so I'll be welcomed whole heatedly. I'll be a celebrity! The Prince of Slytherin! Wouldn't that be grand! Draco Malfoy, celebrity! "Again I nodded mutely.

Several minutes passed in silence as the seamstress Madam Malkin adjusted the boy's robes. "Well?" the boy Draco said with an air of impatience. "What House do you want to go into?" I had no clue what he meant, but my sense of stuff preservation, always attune to the situations around me, gave me the answer. "Well Slytherin of course!" I managed to say in an uncharacteristic drawl that sounded a lot like Draco's. It sounded like I thought Slytherin was the only option. The most obvious, and this boy was an idiot for not realizing that from the beginning. From my silence. He should have taken silence as agreement. From then onwards, whenever we talked, he always took silence as agreement. But at that point in time, all Draco did was grin savagely and say, "But of course."

From that moment I knew we would be friends, or that both of us would try to befriend the other. It was advantagous. Logical. And it would do well to enter a new school with a friend.

I stuck out my hand to the gorgeous blonde and smiled in the same manner, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The gleam in Draco's eyes was unmistakable. But that was okay. Two can play at any game. And I always win.


	2. Memories and Comfort in the Dark

**AN** _Hey guys! This is a fic that has been in progress for a LOOOONG time, I'm hoping you will be willing to give any advice or criticism because it is MUCH appreciated. I am always striving to improve and maybe you all can help?  
So this is really the first fanfic I ever wrote (not the first I posted) and I decided to type it all up see what everybody thought. SO again... help? Please? :p_

Hermione was sitting in the guy's flat with Ron waiting for Harry to return. She didn't know exactly why she was worried, but there No doubt in he mind that she was. It had been a long time since Harry went out, and having been his close companion for these past 8 years made her know he was doing something reckless. Or if he hadn't already then he was about to do so. She wants to be there for him, but something tells her that if she was, she would do something reckless. He was in trouble, she was certain of it.

"Hermione, stop pacing!" Ron said in an aggravated tone. "You're making me nervous!"

She was pacing? Well, darn, she was.

"Sorry." She murmured in reply.

She couldn't help it. All Hermione could do is think about how distraught Harry must be! Becoming an Auror had meant the world to Harry and Ron himself explained that Harry's dream was not coming true. He took it well Ron had said, but Hermione found Ron actually understands how well Harry could act when he had to. That whole "I'm okay, leave me be" routine doesn't work on her and she will never will fall for that act again. She made the mistake once, and she soon realized how good Harry had become at hiding his emotions. The memory tugs at her heartstrings still.

"But why, Hermione?" Harry had yelled, "What is the point of my staying alive when all those people had to die! It kills me to think that they died for me! You say they didn't but it's true! Whether intentionally of not, I started the war that killed them. I ended it to, but they still died! Remus, Tonks, and the rest of them! Ron never has forgiven me for killing his brother it seems..."

Hermione looked down unable, for the first time, to answer the question that Harry posed her. She knew only one thing to do.

"Ron, doesn't hate you..." She tried.

"Don't give me that crap, 'Mione, just don't do it. Answer me!"

Seeing his distress nearly killed her. She was wound up and angry that he couldn't possibly see what was right in front of him. Theyt didn't do it for him, they wanted to do it for themselves. He doesn't understand. He couldn't handle the stress of having so much dezath on his hands, and it wasn't even his fault or that happening. Voldemort was to blame for this, but because he had died and Harry hadn't, Harry couldn't see that truth. He was blind to it in his pain. Hermione didn't know how to voice this she didn't know how to help him.

" I don't know, Harry!" She yelled back trying not to burst into tears. "Do you not realize how HARD this is for me? I see you day in and day out as you insist that you are fine, perfectly normally, but I can see that you aren't? I see the way that you hide, I see how you try hard not to cry when the Daily Prophet has yet another report on the Battle of Hogwarts and, Merlin, Harry, if it doesn't nearly kill me to see how you are on the verge of doing something utterly stupid in your grief! I feel the same way, but you are being so personal about it! People died, but the always do. Teddy was orphaned, but he still has you. Please, please, please stop focusing on the dead when there are people living that need you! I'm afraid Harry. Afraid for you. I seem to think hat if you keep thinking about Sirus and Dumbledore and the rest that you are going to try to join them!"

"Hermione, I wanted to stay and join them, I nearly did. You say I survived and should continue to survive, but at what purpose? Why stay alive? Why did I come back just to witness all the pain I caused? I thought I was helping. I thought I was done with all of the suffering, but it follows me, 'Mione. It is following me, has been following me and always will. I don't know if I can take it! I could have stayed. I should have stayed with them."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered, openly crying at this point. "Is that really what you wanted? Do you really want to die?"

"Yes," he said with conviction, "No," he quickly followed, "Maybe," was the final verdict. "I don't know Hermione. It seems easy that way."

"Don't I know it!" She sympathized.

"It just seems," he mused, "that if I stayed that there would have been much less death, misery, and suffering. I can't make anybody happy anymore. I just want to know that it will be easier, that it will be worth it somehow."

"It will, Harry, it will." Hermione had consoled.

"How do you know?" Harry sounded utterly broken. The way his voice had cracked, the way that tears will filling his eyes fogging up his glasses, the sleeplessness in his gaze, it was obvious that Harry was miserable. He was broken, maybe beyond repair.

"It's easy for you to say, I bet." Harry continued spitefully, lashing out in his weakness. " You have Ron. You two have been inseparable since the war. You share the weight of the grief. You two console each other and hold each other up from falling into deep depression. You have managed to begin healing and forgetting, even if it doesn't seem that way!"

Hermione was speechless. Perhaps dying had made Harry more perceptive and insightful, glummer(?). He was obviously so distraught that he was saying this without thinking about what he was saying. Harry was almost NEVER this open with anyone. Hermione had to choose her next words more carefully, sensing that Harry was about to learn something more than he was aware of at the moment.

"We are all healing, Harry." Her voice was soft and pitying. "Some of us are healing more slowly than others, but now that you have Ginny-" BAM! instant explosion. That was the wrong thing to say.

"Oh, right," came Harry's bitterly sarcastic, stinging reply, meant only to harm and maim- lashing out from the pain he felt. "I have GINNY! How can I have possibly forgotten?"

"Harry?" Hermione tried, but he was on a tangent now and cut her off.  
"Maybe I should just go to her and rip her away from the guy she is snogging, Neville or Seamus Ginny dearest, I'll ask her, and then I could say hey despite ripping out my heart do tou want to go and help me recover from Nightmares?" There was a shocked pause, "Yeah, that's going to happen."

Hermione could feel Harry's eye-roll.

"Oh, Harry.. I didn't"

"Stop, Hermione," Harry said briskly, "I don't want to hear it. I don't want your pity. It's hard enough.. just...leave me alone okay?"

"Okay."

Hermione, at this point, knew it was better to leave it be. Harry can work through his distress, and if she were to push it, then he may never forgive her. He will come to her and apologize later for his brusque-ness; he always does. She would accept his apology, as always, and they would try to forget how much Harry had let go.

Harry, after that, threw himself into Auror training. Try as she might, Hermione could never forget how he spoke to her, so full of pain, and she worried that he was going to get hurt. She trusted him, and she couldn't judge how he coped.

Later, in her musings, Hermione realized something, something that could have helped. In his rant, Harry only ever mentioned lives lost, not the lives he saved..

Hermione's head snapped up when she heard a key turn in the lock. She stared as the person silhouetted in the doorframe. When she saw what state the person was in, she nearly burst into tears. Harry.

What have you done?

Hermione was staring at the door where Harry stood. He was covered in bruises and was sporting a broken nose. His eye was swollen and lip split. It was obvious she was right in being worried. Harry had gotten into a fight. As much as she wanted to, she knew that now was not the time to go and lecture him. His hair managed to reach a new state of disarray, yet plastered to his head because of the rain, and his face was gaunt and lonely.

Things are far worse than she had assumed. He was obviously drunk, but that didn't matter. He was still Harry and he was hurting. Hermione ran up to her friend and wrapped her arms around his waist murmuring, "It's okay, Harry. It's okay. What happened?"

Up until this point Harry had been so out of it that he didn't notice Hermione, who was standing right in front of him. She was crying. Bawling really. Harry seemed to think that she hadn't cried this hard since Ron and he had found her in the Girls' Bathroom First Year.

"Shhhhh," He soothed the frizzy-haired girl, "It's okay. I'm okay. It's all right. Shhh."

Harry's kindness in such a situation just caused Hermione to cry even harder.

"Does your head hurt too?" He slurred, "Don't cry! It's not that terrible."

Hermione laughed through her sobs. "No, Harry it's not my head that hurts. It's my heart!"

"Did Ron hurt you?" Harry roared. "I swear, if he did then, my best mate or not, I will kill him.."

Hermione cut him off "

No, it's just...You look so dreadful! I had to make sure your okay, but then you walk in so obviously NOT okay, and it hurts me. Please, what happened?"

" Oh." Harry deflated. He didn't want to talk about what happened. Remembering was too hard. Remembering is what got him in this situation, well, remembering a certain silver-eyed boy who just HAD to know... something. Hmmm.

Hermione moved over to support Harry before he fell. He had been swaying precariously for awhile there.

"I... ran into Malfoy." Harry muttered. "We were at a bar, and drunk. That's all. We got in a fight. Where's Ron?" Harry was trying to change the subject.

"He went to bed about an hour ago." Hermione responded immediately, "but don't change the subject, Harry. You got in a fight with Malfoy?"

"Well... Yeah. But it was more like he began it, walked away, and then allowed me to beat him senseless. He eventually pushed me off, got in my face, and said I was an idiot."

"Same old Malfoy then." Hermione grumbled.

"Yeah." Was the non-committal response.

"Yeah?" Hermione inquired, curious about Harry's apathy. "What exactly did you say that set him off like that, Harry? I can hear the guilt in your voice even though you're drunk."

Harry winced and Hermione immediately was contrite, until she realized he was wincing from the pain that he was feeling, not the stinging comments he had received. (She yells at him WAAAY to often for THAT to bother him.)

Hermione healed the boy with a flick of her wand.

"well," said Harry, in pain because of the Healing process, "I kinda mentioned how Malfoy was apart whose parents were shut away to die in Azkaban.."

Harry looked away from Hermione's piercing glare that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face at this point.

"Harry!" She exclaimed in shock and disbelief. How could he have said something so callous and biting to somebody when he knows how it feels to lose those you love! He shouldn't have been able to THINK of doing so, even drunk. Malfoy must really have some power over Harry to make him say such things.

She, in her surprise whacked Harry on his (now healed) nose.

"That was uncalled for! I know that it was only Malfoy, but Malfoy is, in the loosest definition of the word, still human! You could have seriously hurt him, or... something. Oh! What am I saying? He's just too terrible! Did you bust him up really good?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry enthusiastically. "I got the wall pretty good too..."

Harry began laughing hysterically, the stress of the past few days finally catching up to him. Hermione smiled, shook her head, and wagged her finger as though she were about to lecture him again, but eventually she too succumbed to the hysterics.

"We're terrible!" She shrieked laughing.

The noise of the two's mirth apparently woke up Ron who stumbled out of the bedroom half-dressed with hair in disarray. Groggily he asked

"Wazz goin' on?"

"Nothing, Ron!" They chimed simultaneously, which caused them to laugh even harder. When they finally caught their breath again they said "Go back to bed! We'll be there soon."

Ron happily agreed and complacently walked back into the room and was snoring in moments.

Harry and Hermione stayed up very late laughing, and when they finally did follow through on their promise of going to bed, they did so with huge grins on their faces.

That night, for the first time in ages, since the end of the war even, no nightmares plagued their sleep.

-  
 _AN Terrible? No? I live for your thoughts! :)_


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